‘Dreams’: Jessica Chastain Loves Coldly in Mexican Auteur Michel Franco’s Unnerving Immigration Allegory

Alci Rengifo

The cinema of Mexican auteur Michel Franco can either go down as a depressing experience or as bold storytelling, depending on the viewer. There are no safe storytelling avenues in his films, and he has little time for happy endings. His latest, “Dreams,” takes the familiar plot of an age gap affair and turns it into an allegory about immigration. In particular, Franco seems to be commenting on the exploitation of undocumented migrants via an older lover who thinks she can keep her younger paramour in a gilded cage. The director reunites with Jessica Chastain, an actor who can navigate between sweetness and a rather unnerving coldness. 

The film opens on a dark desert road where a group of undocumented migrants are left inside a truck. Fernando (Isaac Hernández), a dancer from Mexico City, manages to get out and make his way to San Francisco. There, he reunites with Jennifer McCarthy (Jessica Chastain), a wealthy philanthropist from a prominent family. Immediately we learn they are lovers. The two met because Jennifer funds the dance school in Mexico that trained Fernando. Now Fernando wants to stay in San Francisco and pursue a career. This clearly makes Jennifer uncomfortable. She was happy having Fernando in another country and away from the gaze of her elitist family. When Fernando decides to seek a green card on his own, Jennifer starts to lose her cool at the idea.

What makes Franco a unique director is what will probably frustrate American viewers used to these kinds of stories being hot-blooded erotica. Already some reviews have complained about the lack of “passion” in the material. What they miss is that lustful intensity is not the point here at all. Franco likes to turn his camera into an almost detached witness, presenting a view of a merciless world. In his controversial “New Order,” Mexico City elites are terrified to discover the local workers have revolted and are going around invading their guarded mansions and massacring the rich. If the sex scenes involving Jennifer and Fernando feel icy it’s because this is a rather constrained relationship. The socialite may truly care for the dancer, to the point of maternal obsession, but she also wants absolute control over the situation. As someone used to probably getting whatever she wants, Jennifer can’t process why Fernando won’t accept just staying in Mexico City while she pays the rent and flies out to see him whenever she can.

A few developments feel calculated, maybe on purpose, such as Fernando deciding he will dance outside of the dance company Jennifer funds in San Francisco. Just by luck, the company director sees the Mexican prospect and offers him not only the chance to train, but a lead role in the latest production. Jennifer of course grows ever more frustrated while being unable to resist wanting to be with Fernando. Franco is maneuvering various delicate territories here. The white American woman wants to control this undocumented migrant whom she has obvious social power over. Yet, only would she be judged by her family and social class for being with a brown immigrant, but one who is also younger. Women have constantly dealt with the imbalance in societal finger wagging where men are allowed, even expected, to date younger, while women who do the same are receive a more critical eye. 

Franco’s ideas are so clear, however, that the age gap dissipates in terms of our attention. More effective is how the film critiques the do-gooder and the self-gratifying attitude of those who believe they are pillars of society, while barely living those values in their actual lives. Jennifer’s father (Marshall Bell) loves to show off his children’s philanthropic ways to the press, but he issues a clearly racist rejection of Fernando to his daughter. Her brother (Rupert Friend) is no better. Like politicians who profess progressive values yet rarely implement them, Jennifer tries to force Fernando to return to Mexico with weak excuses. He’s almost a toy for her, so it’s jarring when he shows he is more than capable of making independent choices. Chastain also starred in Franco’s “Memory,” about a single mom becoming involved with a man suffering from early onset dementia. Franco knows how to get Chastain to channel a complex range of emotions from warmth to selfishness. Jennifer truly cares for Fernando, until he starts making demands.

Be warned, there is no way this movie could have a happy ending. Unlike formula Hollywood movies, “Dreams” doesn’t tie up the narrative with a convenient finale where racism is defeated and Fernando rises with Jennifer at his side. Maybe what turns off some viewers from a Franco film is how startlingly he portrays human nature. In her selfishness, Jennifer will make a hurtful, shocking final attempt to get what she wants. Fernando will eventually make an extreme choice to make his points clear to Jennifer, attempting to turn the tables on her. Love easily goes out the window along with tenderness. Even sex will become a violent expression. Bones will be broken just as easily as hearts. In a way it’s a perfect metaphor for our own relationship with Latin America. We exploit the continent and treat its migrants like disposable products, but when they dare rise up, we call in the shock troops to put them back in line.

“Dreams” releases Feb. 27 in select theaters.